


Fight For It

by ayoungrat



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Brothers, Coming Out, Gen, talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayoungrat/pseuds/ayoungrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since that scene between Debbie and Mickey makes me and a lot of others cringe, I decided to write my own version of Mickey realizing he needs to get his sh*t together. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight For It

"Iggy! Iggy…" Mickey called over the blaring death metal playing on his stereo system. Debbie was standing with a drunken, naked Mickey, waiting for a solution to the problem of Ian flushing his pills.

  
Iggy stepped in from the hallway and was tossed the plastic bag carrying the empty pill bottles. He inspected them, yelling, “Who the fuck gets high on lithium? No one.”

  
Mickey gestured as if to say ‘I dunno,’ and Debbie wasn’t about to get in to a discussion of Ian’s mental health with Iggy. “So,” is all she asked, clearly in a hurry for conformation as to whether or not the medication could be obtained.

  
"So I can’t get ‘em," was the short answer. "I can get you crack, crystal, Horse, E… This shit? No. There’s no market it for it," he added, tossing the bag back into Debbie’s hands.

  
"God- fuck!" Debbie exclaimed, storming out of the Milkovich house. Iggy looked at Mickey, who wasn’t playing the slightest bit of attention, which today somehow seemed odd. He stepped closer to the shelving unit housing the stereo and shut off the music, only now hearing a frustrated sigh from his brother.

"Yo… isn’t that your boyfriend’s sister? The hell’s her deal?" He asked, walking back to stand in the doorway again.  
Mickey shrugged. “The pills are Ian’s. He flushed ‘em.” Realizing how ridiculous he looked, he wanted to remove the

guitar. He also realized the guitar was the only thing covering his naked groin.

  
"The hell does he need Lithium for?" Iggy’s brows furrowed at this news.

  
Mickey licked his lip like he often did when he was nervous, annoyed or turned on. “He’s bipolar.”

  
Iggy’s eyes widened. “Shit… seriously?” Mickey nodded. “So is he like in a hospital or something?”

  
Mickey burped, using raw masculinity as a means of showing disinterest. “Was. Got out today.”

  
“So… why ain’t you with him?” Iggy asked casually, banging his palm against the top of the doorframe.  
   
Mickey shrugged it off. “Fuckin’ Gallaghers can take care of his psycho ass now… not like I really cared in the first place.” He had a thought of, ‘Fuck, why do I still talk this way?’  
   
“Man, you know that’s bullshit,” Iggy replied, rolling his eyes.  
   
“Look, why do you even care, huh? You should be fuckin’ happy I’m not with that faggot anymore.” Mickey couldn’t close his mouth after saying a word so hateful and disgusting.  
   
Iggy could see the immediate regret in Mickey’s eyes. He darted his tongue at the corner of his mouth, a common Milkovich mannerism. He only took a step closer so he wouldn’t spook his brother. “Mick, when are you gonna stop lying to yourself that you actually give a shit about someone?”  
   
Mickey walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down next to the ashtray and pack of smokes, awkwardly covering himself with the guitar. “I’m the one who made him crazy.” He rubbed the tips of his fingers until his teary eyes, looking away from Iggy. “And when he gets his shit together, he’s gonna see how much better he is without me…” He made a pained face now, breathing heavy and letting a tear or two fall from his eyes.  
   
Iggy sat down next to his brother. Tender moments weren’t really something the Milkoviches took part in (that was more of a Gallagher tendency). But Iggy tried this time to make his brother feel better, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Dude… pretty sure he was into you before all that. And besides, bipolar isn’t like that. It’s genetic and I definitely remember his mom bein’ a fuckin’ nutcase when she still lived here.”  
   
Mickey remembered. “Yeah… Mental Monica,” he sighed, still hearing the name being chanted at Ian’s mother when he was a child. Nowadays he’d rip the vocal chords out of anyone who dared give Ian a name like that.  
   
Iggy lost track for a second and laughed. “Hey, remember that time she was at the Alibi- and she ripped off all her clothes and was sure she was invisible? She went around taking gulps of everyone’s drinks thinkin’ they couldn’t see her?” That last bit made Mickey miserable all over again and Iggy could sense that. He lay back on the bed, tossing a rubber ball he’d found on the bedside table into the air, trying to make the talk less tense. “But, hey, think about it. She didn’t get better ‘cause all she had was fuckin’ Frank.”  
   
Mickey’s eyebrows raised slightly, realizing that was true.  
   
Iggy kept tossing the ball. “If you really want him to get better… you need to get your shit together and not turn into that piece of trash. All he did was give up on her and let her get worse. You gotta fight for it, bro. Your man needs ya…” Iggy hadn’t realized what he’d said was so powerful until he looked up from his ball tossing to see his brother rushing to put some clothes on.  
   
“We got any coffee?” He asked, jamming his short legs into his jeans.  
   
“Think so. Why?” Iggy asked.  
   
“Gotta sober up ‘fore I see him,” Mickey replied, heading to his bedroom door. He then stopped and turned around. “So… you don’t care that I’m gay?” It was a question he’d been wanting to ask for a long time but hadn’t out of fear of showing weakness.  
   
Iggy laughed. “Dude… we’re brothers. To be real with you, I’ve never cared about that shit. Guys who can take it in the ass are pretty fuckin’ tough.” Mickey scrunched his face and kind of chuckled, accepting the statement as a blessing. “Besides… you ain’t the only fag in the family. You know that run Colin went on last month and didn’t come home for two weeks?”  
   
Mickey’s gaze scrunched even more. “Yeah…”  
   
“He was staying with his boyfriend at a hotel in Wisconsin. Dude’s married so he had to make up some excuse about a business trip to get away.”  
   
Mickey’s eyes went completely wide. Colin was gay? He tried not to get worked up, unable to really process the information now. “Right… well… okay.”  
   
On his way into the kitchen, Mickey happened to see Colin sitting on the couch watching some documentary about Jeffrey Dahmer. Unsure why, but Mickey felt the need to walk over to him. “Hey…”  
  
 “Sup,” Colin replied, eyes still focused on the screen.  
   
Mickey waited a moment. “Look, just remember to use rubbers, okay? Those married dudes catch a lot of shit on business trips.”  
                    
Colin smiled, reacting so unlike how Mickey did when anyone found out about his being gay. “Thanks, man.”  
 


End file.
